My Virtual Reading Room

I must say, I just love the last two lines of it...

Enjoy!
Cat

A NECESSARY DIRGE

Sometimes it's difficult, isn't it, not to grow grim and rancorous
Because man's fate is so counter-clockwise and cantankerous.
Look at all the noble projects that die a-borning,
Look how hard it is to get to sleep at night and then how hard it is to wake up in the morning!

How easy it is to be unselfish in the big things that never come up and
      how hard in the little things that come up daily and hourly, oh yes,
Such as what heroic pleasure to give up the last seat in a lifeboat to a mother and babe, and what
      irritation to give some housewife your seat on the Lexington Avenue Express!

How easy for those who do not bulge
To not overindulge!
O universe perverse, why and whence your perverseness?
Why do you not teem with betterness instead of worseness?

Do you get your only enjoyment
Out of humanity's annoyment?
Because a point I would like to discuss
Is, why wouldn't it be just as easy for you to make things easy for us?

But no, you will not listen, expostulation is useless,
Home is the fisherman empty-handed, home is the hunter caribouless and mooseless.
Humanity must continue to follow the sun around
And accept the eternal run-around.

Well, and if that be the case, why come on humanity!
So long as it is our fate to be irked all our life let us just keep our heads up and take our irking with insouciant urbanity.

(Ogden Nash)

EXPERIENCE TO LET

Experience is a futile teacher,
Experience is a prosy preacher,
Experience is a fruit-tree fruitless,
Experience is a shoe-tree bootless.

For sterile wearience and drearience,
Depend, my boy, upon experience.
The burnt child, urged by rankling ire,
Can hardly wait to get back at the fire,

And, mulcted in the gambling den,
Men stand in line to gamble again.
Who says that he can drink or not?
The sober man?  Nay nay, the sot.

He who has never tasted jail
Lives well within the legal pale,
While he who's served a heavy sentence
Renews the racket, not repentance.

The nation bankrupt by a war
Thinks to recoup with just one more;
The wretched golfer, divot-bound,
Persists in dreams of the perfect round.

Life's little suckers chirp like crickets
While spending their all on losing tickets.
People whose instinct instructs them naught
But must by experience be taught,

Will never learn by suffering once,
But ever and ever play the dunce.
Experience! Wise men do not need it!
Experience! Idiots do not heed it!

I'd trade my lake of experience
For just one drop of common sense.

(Ogden Nash)